


Cat's Cradle

by agrestenoir



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Action, Akumatized Chat Noir, Angst, Blood, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, It's a different type of akuma fic, Reveal, Romance, Violence, post-reveal, something you've never seen before ;) I promise, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrestenoir/pseuds/agrestenoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forced to discover her partner's true identity, Marinette tries to balance her job as a solo superheroine, hiding an akumatized Adrien Agreste, and dealing with the secrets that Chat Noir tried to conceal behind his mask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cat's Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> Prepare for an akuma-fic like you've never seen before. Features cat!Chat Noir, actual cinnamon roll Adrien Agreste, DJ Wifi development, angsty Agreste family feels, and BAMF!Marinette. Plus kwami/Miraculous backstory and character studies for our main buns.
> 
> This is going to be an epic and quite a long ride, so buckle your seat belts and prepare for lift off.

_“_ **The wind comes in, and soon you’re running—“**

Chat Noir landed beside her with a soft _thud_ , the _click_ of his baton the only greeting she received as he joined her to stare up at the Eiffel Tower above them. His breathing hitched before he spoke, “I bet I can beat you to the top.”

She managed an airy chuckle, finding joy in her partner’s carefree nature. “Feel free to. It’s getting a bit late for me.”

“Oh, come on, bugaboo,” he drawled out. “A race to the top of the Eiffel Tower, no baton or yo-yo, just you and whatever magic that Miraculous of yours gives you. It’ll be fun.”

She had never been one for competitions, but her partner ignited a spark in her that she had never felt before, the warmth bubbling in the pit of stomach. “Alright,” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Let’s go.”

He didn’t wait for her signal, already sprinting full-speed towards the lowest metal rungs on all-fours. Her heart caught in her throat as she dashed after him, and it wasn’t before long that she was just close enough to reach out and touch his tail with her fingers. Hands met cold metal, the burn in her muscles adding to fuel to the fire as she pulled herself up the side of the Eiffel Tower, and together, they scaled up higher and higher.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her partner below, but at that moment, a strong breeze whipped by, nearly pulling her fingers off the metal rung. With a short scream, she threw her arms around the closest beam and hung on for dear life, feet slipping as they tried to find purchase.

“Chat Noir,” she said. “Chat Noir, I’m gonna—”

The hurricane pelted her back, her hands lost their hold, and empty air embraced her as she fell.

“ _Chat Noir!_ "

*

Marinette Dupain-Cheng never liked secrets.

It proved to be a bit of a pickle sometimes considering her hobby of moonlighting as one half of Paris’s famous superhero duo, but it was an understood necessity of the job. It was really quite simple to understand: secrets kept her safe. It was important to note, though, that she never willingly chose to put her head on the galantine. Despite the risks involved, she actually wanted to live, and the only way to do that was to ensure that no one knew who she truly was. 

Ever since she took up the mantle of Ladybug, she swore she would never reveal her true identity. So long as the person behind the mask remained a mystery, then no one would look twice at Marinette. Ladybug and Chat Noir would continue to be the only targets for Hawkmoth, her friends and family would remain safe, and Marinette could continue to live as normal of a life as possible.

If only it were that simple.

The idea of someone discovering Marinette as Ladybug shook her to the core. Often times, when she closed her eyes to go to sleep, she fell into a fitful slumber where Hawkmoth and his akumas overwhelmed everyone and everything she ever cared about, and a crowd with wild eyes and haunting laughter came after her, tearing Tikki apart and prying the Miraculous from her cold hands. It wasn’t something she liked to think about, so she kept the secret. Her two lives were never to intertwine.

But Chat Noir…

Chat Noir complicated things.

When Ladybug first met Chat Noir, he’d been a stick of dynamite, and once she lit the fuse, he exploded into an array of heat and destruction. He was a typical teenage boy, edged with flirty banter, god awful puns, and an Eiffel Tower charisma, but he was just so free and alive, the vibrant sunshine to her sometimes dark and dreary life. His happiness was overbearing at times (mostly because she tried to keep her head screwed on straight when it came to their job, but she wouldn’t change it for the world) with a tendency to jump around with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face every time she saw him.

She found great joy in it all.

Everything about him was so raw and real, like Chat Noir wasn’t his mask but his true self, and his civilian identity was the real disguise. Chat Noir didn’t hide anything—even his heart was worn on the end of his sleeve. She wished she could be more like him.

That’s where the secrets got tricky. Marinette couldn’t be Ladybug, and Ladybug couldn’t bear any resemblance to Marinette. Chat Noir spilled his civilian life into his superhero one, making quick quips about his hobbies or whereabouts or asking questions about her personal life. It had changed after the Lady Wifi incident, though, when they had fought tooth and nail to get Ladybug out of public eye before she lost her transformation.

“Wait, stay!” He’d reached for the door, holding it with a white-knuckled grasp, but she’d known he would’ve let go if she pulled back. “I won’t tell anyone who you are… Cat’s honor.” His eyes were wide, glittering with sincerity, because what he was really asking was _Don’t you trust me?_

 _Of course, I do_ , she wanted to say, but instead rolled her eyes as if it was the craziest thing she’d ever heard. “No one can know who we really are,” she told him. “Not even us.”

She ducked into the closet before he had a chance to respond, but her stupid, hopeful heart left the door open just a crack. If he’d wanted to—and he had, she was sure of it—he could’ve peeked. Instead, he let her go and respected her wishes. She felt it in her heart, a throbbing pain that threatened to splinter her whole, because a part of her had wanted Chat Noir to open the door.

Eventually, she confessed to Tikki her fears about revealing her identity, but the kwami only reiterated what she already knew. “I know it’s hard to hide things from your best friend, but no one can know you’re Ladybug.”

“You’re right, Tikki. All my loved ones will be safe as long as my secret stays hidden in here.” She pointed to her head with a weary smile, wishing desperately that she could choke down the regret brewing inside. “But… Chat Noir…” She trailed off and dropped her head to her chest, gripping her shirt as if it was the only explanation she could give.

“Is it true?” Tikki asked suddenly. “You’re gonna tell him? Is that what your heart’s saying?”

 _Yes! Yes! Yes!_ Her heart was practically screaming in her chest, pounding against her ribcage to be heard, but she swallowed it down, tried to calm it, because the moment had passed. Chat Noir had vanished like Ladybug, just as he was supposed to.

“Sometimes your heart tells you one thing, but a great superhero always listens to her head.” Although, she leaned against the balcony and gazed out over Paris, wondering where Chat Noir was and if his heart was screaming too… because as much as she understood the need to keep the secret, it still _sucked_.

Despite what she told Tikki, she didn’t keep the secret because she was smart. She kept it because she was scared. If the constant threat of Hawkmoth wasn’t hovering like a ghost over her life, she would’ve told her partner her real name by now.

Fear was a funny thing. Nobody willingly strayed onto its path. They built bridges to cross its waters, sang songs to fill its silence, and fell in love to avoid its loneliness. Marinette faced fear every day—it happened to be the driving force between whatever she did. It was the reason she had never stood up to Chloe Bourgeois before she’d first met Alya. It was why she never carried on a full conversation with Adrien Agreste, even if he sat in front of her, because ignorance was always better than rejection. It had a part in whatever she did.

So she kept ahold of her tongue, never spoke up and never told her secret, and Chat Noir accepted that (no matter how much he disagreed).

But things could change—that’s one of the most important things to realize about fear—it could lead her to one decision only to send her backpedaling into another. Like she said, it dictated almost every aspect of her life, so she’d learned to manage it as best as she could.

For so long, Marinette had been scared about her secrets getting out. Her secrets kept her safe. It was supposed to keep her partner safe as well. Without them, they could be hurt—in some of the most unimaginable and agonizing ways possible.

Her secrets, while she hated them, kept her safe.

Chat Noir’s, however, did not.

*

The summer after collège started with some quaint brunches with Nino and Alya, working part-time in her parents’ bakery, and spending long afternoons on her designs, all the while praying to whoever would listen that her longtime crush, Adrien Agreste, would follow them to lycèe. The gossip she heard reported that the model was in a long-term argument with his father regarding the continuation of his education in public schools, and from what Nino hinted, things weren’t exactly falling in Adrien’s favor. Regardless, the summer holiday was proving to be just the recovery period Marinette needed after a year full of balancing schoolwork atop her trials as Ladybug, final exams, and trying to hold a single conversation with Adrien without stammering her way through a simple _hello_.

(Needless to say, she hadn’t quite managed to make it past that stage, although Alya told her love which leaves her breathless was something to hold onto. She’d prefer if it she could _actually_ talk to him, and her burning lungs would thank her later.)

Peace settled upon the whole of Paris, as even Hawkmoth had taken a break from his constant flood of akumatized-villians intent on hunting down Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous, but then Master Fu called.

Shortly after returning the book to Master Fu at Tikki’s insistence, Marinette became well-acquainted with the Great Guardian and would often bring him pastries from the bakery during her breaks. In return, he entertained her with stories from his adventures with Wayzz during his time as an active Miraculous holder. However, he refused to answer her questions regarding her own Miraculous or what the future might have in store for her and Chat Noir. He advised her to discover the secrets in her own time.

Secrets, again, made Marinette nervous. Despite the hanging fear about Master Fu knowing her true identity, she figured that if anyone should know about Ladybug—it was the one who gave it to her in the first place. Besides, it was nice to have someone to share her thoughts about Ladybug with outside the mask. It should have been Chat Noir, which she now realized in the grand scheme of things, though Master Fu had made a wonderful confidant. She had always been wary when it came to revealing her true identity, even if the person she was considering was someone she trusted inexplicably, and the fact of the matter was that it was safer not to tell.

Master Fu reluctantly understood. Chat Noir respected her wishes. Tikki agreed wholeheartedly.

Why fix something that wasn’t broken?

The breakdown happened like this.

Master Fu called her three weeks after summer began, shortly before her lunch (date) with Nino and Alya (because those two were an item, she was sure of it, no matter how much they denied it), and urged her to come to his shop with the utmost haste. With a flippant farewell to her parents, called out over her shoulder as she dashed out of the bakery, Marinette headed for Master Fu’s, thoughts thundering about in her head about what the urgent matter could be. Part of her wondered if the other Miraculous had been stolen, or if Hawkmoth had been spotted. Either way, nothing could have prepared her for the sight she stumbled upon.

A sickly, mangy cat huddled in the corner of Master Fu’s front room, claws digging into the cedar wood floorboards as Wayzz hung over the creature like a reaper. Cuts and open sores covered the poor animal, some still bleeding while others oozed puss, and its black fur was matted with dirt and grime. It struggled to stand on three legs, body trembling violently as it kept its front paw close to its chest and as far from the occupants of the room as possible. Huge green eyes peeked out at her as the cat cast panicked glances around the room, looking for an escape route—not that it was fast enough to make it out of the shop without injuring itself further.

With tentative steps, she tried to come closer, but any attempt was met with a frenzied display of hisses, sharp teeth, and the swinging claws. “Master Fu…” She trailed off as the older man held up a hand in warning.

“Leave him be, Ladybug,” he told her, wary eyes trained on the mewling animal. “I don’t know how dangerous this creature might be.”

The sight brought about a lump in her throat the longer she stared. “It’s _hurt_ ,” she said, unable to look away. “It needs _help_. Why call me? You need a vet or a—”

“It’s an akuma.”

The words stole Marinette’s breath away and silenced her thoughts, until the only sounds she could hear was her own frantic heart beating violently against her ribs and the distressed hisses from the cat. Flashes of her battle with Animan flooded her mind, of the glinting eyes and stank odor of the Tyrannosaurus rex before she jumped willing into its mouth, her partner’s screams echoing past her ears, but despite the horrific encounters akumas usually brought, the sickly cat in the corner didn’t seem to measure up. In fact, if Marinette listened to her heart, it wasn’t dangerous at all.

But Tikki had taught her to listen to her head…

“What happened?” she asked. “Last I checked, akumas wreck havoc on all of Paris, not your hardwood floors.”  
“Wayzz sensed Hawkmoth’s power and led us to it outside the park,” Master Fu answered flippantly, as if he hadn’t fully heard her. She made a move to question him, but the cat let out a loud shriek, the sound sending a sharp pain shooting down to her stomach.

“What’s wrong with it?” She knelt low on her haunches, staring intently at the cat with the same steady gaze as Master Fu, even though her heart was screaming itself hoarse in her chest to comfort the suffering creature.

Master Fu finally looked up at her with wide eyes, and Marinette knew there was something else. “Ah,” he said in a soft, awed voice. “You can sense it.”

Marinette fiddled with the end of her fringe, fixating on the shaky cat, as the lump in her throat grew bigger. The feeling twisted into a nerve-wracking, nauseating ball that sunk into her gut until she shifted anxiously on her feet, aware of Master Fu’s heavy gaze, and tried to concentrate on the ornate Chinese directions on the wall beside her. The heavy silence grew thick, only the cat’s soft cries breaking through.

“I just know something’s wrong.” Her words came out quick and harsh, not that she meant to be abrupt with Master Fu, but mainly because she was scared. Sure, she had faced plenty of terrifying akumas before, but there was something about this helpless, injured cat that plucked at her bloody heartstrings until she chose to listen to it.

“It’s not your typical akuma.”

Suddenly, she felt hollow.

“…It’s Chat Noir.”

Marinette stopped, eyes frozen on the injured cat in front of her, imploring him to react. The cat stared back, eerie green eyes glowing in the shadow of the afternoon clouds slipping through the blinds, and mewled softly, the sound striking her with a white, hot flash down her back. She balked, startled at the thought that her partner—the strong, solid presence at her side for nearly a year—could have fallen victim to Hawkmoth. He was Chat Noir. He was the boy who fought every battle with a bright smile and a twinkle in his eye. Chat Noir was untouchable.

She turned to Master Fu to call his bluff and find out where her partner really was, that he was a liar because Chat Noir was too strong to be broken. But when Marinette looked into the older man’s eyes, she saw her own fear reflected back at her. A sharp breath left her lungs, she clasped her hands over her mouth in shock, and the world stopped.

It had terrified her sometimes—often, actually—the possibility that Ladybug or Chat Noir could fall on the battlefield. It wasn't the heat of battle that caused it because, hrough thick and thin, they remained victorious and on their own two feet, prevailing over Hawkmoth even when the whole world was against them. Instead, it was a constant fear that was born in the middle of late-night talks atop the Eiffel Tower on clear nights, where they bore their fears and insecurities to one another, and early morning trysts before the sun arose, sweat-soaked suits matted with dirt and blood, bruises and scrapes blistering in the cool night air, as they stood tall on shaky legs.

Those were the moments they were sure why they were fighting—why they had accepted the mantle of Chat Noir and Ladybug in the first place. Marinette always claimed it was to protect Paris, and Chat Noir told her his whole reason was to protect the people he loved—fighting the bad guys and clinging to the only people he had in his life, because without them, all that was left were the people trying to hurt him.

It made her ache for her partner. To walk in his shoes, even for a little while, might kill her from how destructively he seemed to love and how much he was willing to give to protect everyone he could. It was almost like he didn’t know how to love any other way other than unselfishly and wholeheartedly. Marinette was sure that if someone he cared about was harmed in anyway, he’d unravel until all that was left was a little boy trying to stitch back the shambles of his once full, happy life—which made him even more vulnerable. It genuinely scared her that one day she could wake up to a city where there was no Chat Noir, and all that remained of the boy she loved was an obituary in the newspaper under a name she didn’t even know.

They fought for a reason—if they fell, then everyone else would too. There was more at stake here than just an ordinary akuma. If it was Chat Noir, then everything… His secrets, her secrets… They would fall soon too.

“How do you know it’s him?” she asked, dangerously quiet. “The akuma could be anyone. What makes him Chat Noir? He doesn’t even have his ring or—”

“You can sense it.” Master Fu reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. “In your heart, you can tell. Ladybug and Chat Noir are two parts of a whole. If separated, the only thing you’d do is spend the rest of your life seeking out the other half. You complete one another. You can always find your other half. Tell me, can you feel him right now, in this room?”

She stared at the cat with glazed eyes, voice cracking as she went on. “ _No_ , it’s not him. I’d _know_ if that was Chat, and it’s not. It’s not _him_. He’s fine, and I…”

“Ladybug.”

“I can’t fight my friend,” she said in a breathless rush, the fear chiseling away at her carefully crafted walls.

“You’ve done it before,” Master Fu said. “Whenever he falls under an akuma’s control, you handle the situation remarkably well. I daresay it barely fazes you.”

“That’s different.” Taking in a shuddering breath, she looked steadily at him. “He’s not the same when he’s under their control. He’s not himself, and it shows in the way he fights me. I know how Chat fights—his moves, his strategies—he doesn’t go all-out when we’re forced to fight each other. I also know how to fight back without hurting him. It’s hard, and I don’t like it, but I can handle it. I’m good at my job.”

“No, my dear, I think you’re just a young girl who’s very good at compartmentalizing.”

Marinette made a move to snap back at Master Fu, to call him out on implying that she wasn’t doing an acceptable job as Ladybug, but when she caught of the smile on his face and knew the truth. He believed in her, and he knew she could solve this issue. It was the whole reason he’d contacted her after finding the akuma.

The sense of his belief sparked a flare in her gut, chest warming faintly with pride to know that someone else had her back. For as long as she could remember, it had always been Chat Noir who was the fuel to her fire, so to find someone who could inspire that same confidence left her full of disorientated fear and a tingling excitement.

“Fine. So what’s the plan?” She clenched her hands into tight fists, turning back to the cat in the corner. Regardless if the animal was her partner or not, she couldn't leave an akuma to roam free.

Master Fu chuckled with faint amusement. “I’m not asking you to internalize your emotions this time, Ladybug. This akuma isn’t natural; it works differently compared to what you’re used to. You need to feel it. You can’t always listen to your head; sometimes a great hero has to listen to their heart if they hope to win.”

Marinette sighed and leaned against the wall and tried her best not to look forlorn and exhausted. For so long, she had listened to Tikki on matters of the heart, choosing to wield the power of her mind on most occasions, because a well-thought and settled plan was better than running head-first into a situation. She knew she was impulsive at the best of times, willing to let her emotions guard her reactions when it came to her civilian life, but in the ten months since she had become Ladybug, Marinette had learned that wearing her heart on her sleeve wasn’t always the best of choices. Sometimes she had to rely on smarts rather than senses, even if it meant losing a few footholds in the climb, because it was better to prioritize her losses than achieve the bigger picture on a whim.

And now Master Fu was asking her to _trust_ him that the poor creature huddling in the corner of the room, covered in blood and dirt, hissing and crying at anything that moved, was her strong and steady partner, her charismatic cat who always managed to pull a smile at the dreariest of times, the resilient hero who always had a shield even when he lacked a sword. It wasn’t a nice thought…but how could Chat Noir be reduced to this?

Marinette was pulled from her thoughts when Master Fu stepped in front of her. “How can you be sure it’s Chat?” she asked hesitantly, which pulled a very soft smile from the older man.

She wondered if there was something she was missing, but he didn’t appear to be laughing at her. Instead he grasped her wrists gently, directed them towards her chest to place them above her pounding heart. Maybe he assumed she understood what was happening, or perhaps he was giving her a moment to collect her thoughts. Either way, Master Fu simply closed his eyes and silently bid her to do the same.

“The book you gave me,” he began, “Told the secrets of all the Miraculous. For Chat Noir and Ladybug, there is a special connection that no other Miraculous holders share. Regardless of who you are or where you may be, you are always connected.”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows in confusion because she had heard the Great Guardian’s spiel many times before, but she tentatively closed her eyes and clenched her hands around his. Silence settled upon them until the only sounds that remained were their quiet breathes and the cat’s claws against the hardwood floor—it reminded Marinette too much of the late nights atop the Eiffel Tower where Ladybug and Chat Noir would lay on the top beam under the moonlight, finding solace in the sleeping city below and the spaces of each other’s heartbeats. For a few moments, she stayed still, wondering if Master Fu’s advice had fallen short this time around, because how could she _sense_ a person in an animal, even with Ladybug’s magic at her fingertips.

“Your head is too loud.” Master Fu’s voice cut through her thoughts. “Your heart needs to scream.”

Shifting her weight, Marinette clenched her eyes tighter, biting her lip in frustration. She fell back to those silent nights when it was just her and Chat Noir star-gazing on the Eiffel Tower, where the wind whistled past like a loud roar, but the stars remained sparkling above, unreachable even by some of Earth’s strongest forces. The wind had scared her when Chat Noir first dared her to climb to the top beam, worried that she’d slip and fall to her death, even with a magical yo-yo with a long string—only the comfort of her partner beside her convinced her to take a leap and try the feat. If she cleared her head and felt her partner beside her, maybe she could figure it out.

Visions of the hissing cat in the corner, hurt and terrified, suddenly whipped up and danced behind her closed lids. A part of her wondered, if that creature was truly her partner, if he was as scared as she had been during those first few weeks as Ladybug—of the responsibility, of the dangers, of the _god damn wind_. Back then she hadn’t known what to expect, and for Chat Noir to become the thing they fought—it must be horrifying and almost impossible to conceive. Sometimes the unknown frightened them more than the danger being heroes created—a rational fear in her mind—but having someone you trusted by your side made a world of difference.

Her heart beat harder in her chest. _Chat_. _Chat_. The intensity of her feelings for Chat Noir startled her thoughts to a standstill. She opened her eyes and pulled away from Master Fu, folding her arms against her chest. She stared at the cat in the corner—that stupid cat with its oozing cuts and pained mewls—and tried to imagine her partner there instead. _Chat_. With green eyes wet and dark, hunkering over in pain, trying to speak through the gasps and sobs, calling her name… calling for his partner… calling for help. _Chat_. Despite wearing his heart on his sleeve, he wore his mask tighter than she did; in fact, there were some days even she couldn’t see past the smile he plastered on his face. So, for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine her partner in such a state—voluntarily showcasing his fear, pain, and vulnerability—he wasn’t weak, and he didn’t present himself as prey.

He… was an akuma, though. Akumas, at their very essences, were victims of negative emotion which had been warped by magic until they were no longer recognizable, until they couldn’t be reasoned with and instead had to be dealt with. If Chat Noir was truly this akuma, what would make him so different? What’s to say that giving into his negative emotions—the sadness, hurt, and fear he felt that Hawkmoth preyed on—couldn’t turn him into a shadow of his former self?

Marinette stood on shaky legs and crept closer to the cat. Master Fu called out a sharp warning of the dangers of the akuma, but she held up her hand to stop him. “If that’s my partner, he won’t hurt me.”

“He’s an akuma, Ladybug.”

Marinette ignored his protest and turned back to the cat. “Chat Noir?” she asked as silence fell upon them.

The cat watched her approach, its cries growing louder as it frantically tried to curl farther into the corner. It had no means to escape, and Marinette knew that if she pushed it, she could easily capture him without any real effort on her part. But there was something different about this akuma—it wasn’t fighting back, instead just trying to protect itself. Somehow, in the darkest depths of her heart, she knew it wouldn’t hurt her.

“Come here, chaton.” Her voice was shaky, a little out of breath, as she tried not to panic.

 _Don’t you trust me?_ she wanted to ask, like her partner had done back in the hotel so many months ago. _I trust you._

The cat whipped its head towards the sound of her voice, a low growl building up in the back of its throat, a grating noise of an animal prepared to attack. However, Marinette knew, though she was uncertain how, that the akuma was merely trying to make itself seem like a threat, like it was a predator instead of cornered prey. If it had been anyone else—like Wayzz or Master Fu, who would use any means to capture the akuma—they might have backed away, but she came closer.

“Here, kitty, kitty.”

Marinette raised her hand, but the cat hunched up, backing further into the wall. A glint of light of something bright caught her eye as it shifted, and the air rushed out of her lungs in a loud _whoosh_. A simple black collar—something she had failed to notice—adjourned the akuma’s neck with a golden bell at its center. Now, there was no doubt in her mind—the akuma was her partner, Chat Noir.

“Oh, Chat,” she whispered softly, lips pinched in sympathy.  
Shuffling into Chat Noir’s eyeline, she lowered herself to the ground and crawled forward, ready to spring away if the cat lunged at her. While she was sure her akumatized-partner wouldn’t attack her, the sensible part of her was still screaming to run away, get out while she could, heed Master Fu’s warning because this wasn't her partner right now but an _akuma_ , and _what are you thinking, Marinette Dupain-Cheng?!_

“Come on, Chat Noir.” Finally, at the sound of his name falling from her lips, the cat tipped his head to stare at her before freezing. After a long beat of silence, he met her steady gaze, and oh, she exhaled sharply around a shaky gasp, almost a soft sob, because those bright, green, _familiar_ eyes stared back at her almost like he _knew_ her.

Her hand met his shoulder, the fur crusted with dirt and blood, but she pushed back the disturbing feeling and ran her fingers up his neck. His mouth opened in a small snarl, fangs glinting under the light, but he closed it with a soft mewl. The cat ducked under her arm and craned his neck around, sniffing her hand curiously before settling on a decision, and pressed his head back into her palm. A breathless laugh fell from her mouth, lips stretching into a disbelieving smile, and she began to stroke the cat’s forehead with her thumb.

“I underestimated you, Ladybug,” Master Fu said as Marinette stood up, the cat in her arms, and held him close to her chest.

The movement drew a soft sound from Chat Noir, and her heart clenched more painfully than ever. It felt bloody and raw behind her ribs, like a wounded animal trapped in a cage who she had repeatedly beat back for even daring to make a noise. Her heart had screamed louder than ever, and she had never fought it so resolutely before. It had been right. Her partner was an akuma—she still couldn’t fathom it, but there was no denying it.

She could tell it was Chat Noir now by even the simplest of things. The way his ears perked at the sound of her voice, soothing him even when he was injured and afraid; the way his green eyes softened when they met his, so expressive whether he was angry or happy; the way he nuzzled her hands, content with some form of contact. Her partner always seemed to calm under her touch, whether he was frazzled after battle or wound up after a lengthy night of patrol. As an akuma, he was no different. He also hadn’t stopped making noises since she’d picked him up, talkative to the same degree as before, and that only made her smile harder.

Perhaps her partner hadn’t changed that much after all.

As if hearing her thoughts, Chat Noir let out a sharp _meow_ before snuggling deeper into the crook of her elbow, pulling a soft giggle from her. “Oh, you silly kitty,” was the only response she could form. “How’d you go ahead and get yourself akumatized?”

A nudge on her shoulder had her spinning around to face Wayzz, who finally decided to make his presence known. “Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable in a chair,” he said. A small part of her wondered where Tikki had gone to, but she followed Wayzz wordlessly towards the small lounge chairs on the other side of the room.

Master Fu was already settled in one, the Miraculous book she’d returned earlier open on the table in front of him, and as the euphoria from her small victory of calming her partner dispersed in the air, Marinette knew it was time for Ladybug to finish the job. Joining the older man at the table, she sat back in the chair, mindful of Chat Noir’s injuries, and accepted the tattered white-knit blanket Wayzz offered her. As she stared down at the black cat snuggled against her chest, she wished that she could say more, perhaps offer her partner some form of reassurance in his injured and fear-driven state, but there was no way of telling that he’d even understand her. Despite the quaint nest he’d been swaddled in, there was a rather tangible difference when it came to material comfort versus sense of security.

Her hand froze as the sudden thought struck her. “Wait, can Chat Noir understand us right now? Does he know my true identity now—?”

“With what he’s going through right now, I doubt if he has even the barest hint of clarity, else I’d have called you in as Ladybug,” Master Fu said softly, soothing her bubbling fear. “Perhaps enough to recognize you as someone he trusts, but nothing to concern yourself with. I’d be surprised if he recalls any of what has transpired when he’s changed back.”

“No one ever remembers what happens when they’re an akuma,” she said, her words falling quiet between them. “So Chat Noir won’t be any different.”

“To an extent.” Master Fu fixed her with a steady gaze. “When you purify an akuma, you remove any effect the darkness had, including any tainted memories the victim has. If Hawkmoth used his Miraculous appropriately, we’d be looking at a completely different scenario. There would be no need to cleanse it, no memories to remove.”

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t the first time a Miraculous holder has been akumatized.” Master Fu folded his arms against his chest, staring at the cat in her arms. “Long ago, Miraculous holders would work together, as Ladybug and Chat Noir do in present time, and there were battles in which the different Miraculous could be combined to become a stronger whole. The Miraculous that Hawkmoth currently holds is known as the Butterfly Miraculous, whose power revolves around revealing the champion form of any person the holder chooses, and through its magic, they can bring the champion form to life. There was once a time that the Butterfly Miraculous holder would transform other Miraculous holders into their champion form before their transformation, imbuing them with their own unique powers in addition to the magic they already wielded. The strategy won many battles and saved many lives.”

“But how can you trust it?” Marinette pressed, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. “Hawkmoth turns innocent people into akumas to wreak havoc on all of Paris—there’s never a chance to reason with them, they’re always just out to kill us and steal our Miraculous.”

“It is the holder which determines the use for the Miraculous, not the Miraculous or kwami itself. I don’t believe Hawkmoth ever intended to kill you.” Master Fu only shook his head at her words. “He only wants the Miraculous. That is his goal, and that’s the akumas have become warped and twisted to do.”

“So why didn’t he take it from Chat Noir? Why turn him into an akuma?” She stroked through her partner’s fur with shaky fingers, barely sparing the older man a glance. In her lap, Chat Noir slept on in his akuma-form, whiskers tickling her palm as he breathed deep and even, lulled to sleep by her soft touch and rumble of her chest, completely unaware of the dangers that had befallen him.

“If I may,” Wayzz spoke, hovering over her shoulder, still staring at Chat Noir with a weary expression. “I don’t believe that Chat Noir was Nooroo’s intended target, but rather his civilian form.”

“Then how did you know it was Chat Noir?”

“When I sensed Nooroo’s power, it wasn't the same as the rest of the akumas you’ve faced, else I would have left the problem in your more than capable hands, Ladybug.” Wayzz sighed to himself. “But the problem was that I didn’t sense an _akuma_ , but rather one of Nooroo’s butterflies in general. It is currently giving off a _frightening_ amount of power that I’ve never seen before, a power I recognize as someone _else_ too.”

“But how,” Marinette tried to form a proper response, biting her lip in frustration, because, as she studied the cuts and scrapes along Chat Noir’s body, the blood and grime matting his fur, the stank odor emitting off of him, she couldn’t figure out how an akuma had become so badly beaten, and instead of running off to steal the Miraculous or hand his over to Hawkmoth, he’d been cornered in the park by Wayzz and Master Fu. Master Fu was insistent that her partner wasn’t the typical, run-of-the-mill akuma, and it was true. Things weren’t adding up the way they were supposed to.

Why didn’t the akuma affect her partner—in his civilian form—as it had everyone before him? What about his situation turned the tables on the akumatization process? What caused him to be the outlier of Hawkmoth’s victims?

“It’s Plagg, isn’t it?” A weight settled on her other shoulder, opposite Wayzz. From the corner of her eye, she could make out Tikki’s red- and black-spotted form, curled up in despair, as she stared at the slumbering cat in her arms.

“Who’s Plagg?”

“Chat Noir’s kwami,” Master Fu explained.

Marinette scrunched her nose in confusion. “Well, how’d Plagg get… inside Chat Noir if he was in civilian form when he was changed?”

“He must have seen the akuma coming,” Wayzz interjected, zipping down to hover about the cat, studying it with well-trained eyes. “He must have seen it coming and panicked, tried to transform at the same moment he was akumatized, and now…”

“Now they’re at war inside him,” Master Fu finished.

Unbidden tears prickled in the corners of her eyes as she disguised a sniffle as a wet cough. She tried to imagine her partner the moment before everything changed—lost in the grips of whatever had hurt him so badly to even fall onto Hawkmoth’s radar—perhaps he was crying, but she always believed he was the type of person who would plaster a wobbly smile on his face even as he fell apart inside. The black butterfly must have been a shock, but he’d seen it and snapped into action. He must have been terrified, Marinette realized. He must have been so scared during those last few moments, and did the only thing he could to protect himself—because Chat Noir always defeated the akumas.

(A young man on the verge of tears stood in front of a wall of windows, wanting nothing more than to break down in sobs but clamped his mouth shut because it’s what he’d been taught. _Don’t show emotions. Don’t let them know._ The black and purple butterfly fluttered towards him with almost a whimsical quality to it, like a bird gliding in on a breeze, and its shadow crossed his face as it passed through the sunlight, slipping into the room through a crack in the glass.

He leapt back with a strangled yelp, calling out to his kwami as fear and panic washed over him like an icy waterfall. It was the only thing he could think of doing because _he didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to do, he was hurt and scared_ , and _he didn’t know what to_ —but the transformation was only half-way through as the butterfly breathed its darkness into him, Hawkmoth’s voice echoing through his head like sweet syrup over those pancakes Mama had used to make on Saturday mornings, and _oh god, it hurt, it hurt, Plagg, please_ —and then it was over.)

Wayzz’s voice crashed over her. “Are you sure it’s Plagg?”

“I can feel him,” Tikki said, ignoring Marinette’s completely bewildered expression. “He’s trying to purify the akuma inside of Chat Noir.”

“But only Ladybug can purify the akumas,” Marinette argued, feeling a pressure building in her chest—her heart was desperate to escape and save her partner.

“Yes, it is true that you are the only one capable,” Master Fu reassured her, resting a comforting hand on her elbow. “Ladybug has the ability to cleanse the chaos and misfortune from the world, as Chat Noir’s magic can spread it. But, with the proper tutelage, Chat Noir can learn to… _divert destruction_ , send it elsewhere—but you two aren’t nearly ready to start manipulating your magic and manifest new powers. There’s a set order of things, something you have to come into on your own— _gradually_. You and Chat Noir are not ready. Plagg knows this.”

“Then I’ll just destroy the akumatized item,” Marinette interjected. “Once I do that, I can purify it, and Chat Noir will be back to his normal self.”

Master Fu’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Ladybug.”

“Look,” she told him, sticking her hand under the cat’s neck to show off the black collar and golden bell. “This is the only thing on him. It’s got to be where the akuma is hiding, so—”

“The akuma is inside him.” Master Fu reached across the table and tapped the cat lightly on his back. “If Tikki can feel Plagg’s magic working within Chat Noir, and not the bell, then it means the akumatized item was lost in the transformation.”

“How can you lose an akuma?”

“If he was akumatized while he was transforming into Chat Noir to save himself, then it could have interfered with his champion form,” Tikki answered before Master Fu could form a proper response, and Marinette was glad her kwami had stepped in. Too many thoughts were rushing through her mind, so to hear a familiar voice at her side soothed her frayed strings.

“T-Then how do I get the item out? I can’t break my partner. I can’t _h-hurt_ him.” The words clogged in her throat.

Tikki tucked her head in the crook of Marinette’s neck and sighed. “Oh, Marinette…”

“Well then how do I save him?” she finally asked, voice breaking as the words caught a sob tearing out of her throat. The question had been thundering around in her head throughout the whole ordeal, and if she closed her eyes, she only saw Chat Noir’s green eyes, tinged with fear and pain, begging her to rescue him. “If I can’t do anything, and Plagg can’t do anything, then how do we help him?”

“But Plagg _is_ doing something, Marinette,” Tikki said with a bright smile, nearly gushing with excitement, but the Ladybug holder recognized the forced cheerfulness on her kwami’s face. “He’s teaching Chat Noir how to get rid of the akuma’s darkness.”

“But you said he couldn’t do that,” she argued.

“Nah, Plagg has a habit of disregarding the rules,” Master Fu said as his eyes flickered to her momentarily, only sparing a short glance, before they were skimming across the pages of the book again. “He never listens. If there’s a way to save his holder, he’ll take the chance whether it’s allowed or not.”

Marinette shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand—“

Wayzz flashed her a grim smile. “You cannot control chaos. You can only hope to coerce it.”

“But—”

Master Fu held up a hand to stop her, but her fears kept whirling away in a mindless drone, sending her heart pounding frantically in her chest at the thought of her partner’s fate resting in the hands of the kwami of disaster and misfortune. Whatever the case, the odds didn’t seem to fall into favor with the kwami of bad luck on her side.

Sensing her distress, Master Fu looked up from the book and offered her a small smile. “I know that you’re scared, Ladybug. It’s natural to be frightened of the unknown.”

She was almost too afraid to ask, but the words fell from her lips regardless. “What happens if Plagg can’t get rid of the akuma?”

Master Fu trained his eyes on her carefully, with a deep breath, said, “Then Chat Noir will become a full-fledged akuma. Hawkmoth will know his true identity, and you will have to fight your partner at his strongest.”

Her breath caught in her throat, mouth agape as she stared at the older man in shock. The world stood still for a moment while she struggled to come to grips with the future he had presented her with—visions of Chat Noir’s world tumbling down, the blood-thirsty battle that would surely follow because, just as she knew his strengths and weaknesses, he was privy to hers as well. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what a war against her partner would be like.

Marinette could only fix her gaze on the cat in her lap as a quiet, cold fury settled over her; it seeped into the base of her spine and sent while hot chills through her whole body, flaring into a fire in the pit of her stomach. Despite the chaotic mess looming over their heads, she couldn’t help but spare a small moment of anger towards her partner because _how dare he._ Ever since Ladybug and Chat Noir began their journey together, the job had always been clear—they were the strong hold between Hawkmoth and disaster; their duty as superheroes was to capture the akuma, purify its darkness, and release it back into the world. For Chat Noir to become the very thing they hated—hurt her more than she cared to admit. How dare he become this. How dare he put her and everyone else he loved at risk. How dare he turn against her. How dare he abandon her.

How dare he. How dare he. How _dare_ he. The thought threatened to break her.

But, in the same breath, she knew it wasn’t his fault. He had never asked to become an akuma, to put his whole world (and hers) at risk, to nearly hand Hawkmoth his victory on a silver platter. Chat Noir, like many other akumas, was the victim of a broken man who wielded a power too strong to understand, who tainted and twisted the very natural human emotions that could birth mountains and gauge open vast lands in the same heartbeat.

No, Marinette reminded herself, it wasn’t Chat Noir’s fault. He merely felt, and Hawkmoth took advantage. The fact that he didn’t submit, that he fought against the villainous hold, spoke volumes to his true strength.

Clutching her hands into tight fists, hoping to ease the tremors, she leaned back in the chair and leveled her gaze with Master Fu’s. “What can I do? And don’t give me some crap about sitting back and letting Chat Noir fight this on his own. Chat Noir and I—we’re a team. There isn’t a battle we haven’t won together, and it’s not going to change now.”

“Ladybug—” Master Fu’s dark and sullen eyes met her own.

“No,” Marinette told him, feeling the anger stir up again. “I refuse to leave him alone, especially not now.”

“Then… that’s exactly what you’ll do,” Master Fu said. “I told you that you and Chat Noir weren’t ready to begin manipulating your magic, but, in time, you will. You’re two parts of a whole. If separated, the only thing you’d do is seek out your other half. You complete each other.”

A dark flushed spread across her cheeks. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far—”

“But it’s true, Marinette.” Tikki flew over and dropped low to hover in front of her, settling down atop her hand as Marinette rested it on Chat Noir’s back. “The stronger the bond between you is, the more tangible the connection you share with Chat Noir will become. You’re two halves of a whole—the stronger you become, the stronger he will be as well.”

“Look,” she said in a huff, “I know all that, but how does that help him?”

“Plagg is teaching Chat Noir how to divert the akuma,” Master Fu explained with a twinkle in his eye. “But if he doesn’t have the strength to complete the technique, then it will be for nothing. It’s why Great Guardians discourage the kwami from springing all the secrets of the Miraculous onto its holder the first time they transform. A little boy cannot simply step into his father’s shoes and hope to walk across the room. It takes time to learn and grow like everything else—first, to put on the shoes; two, to grow big enough to fill the shoes; and finally, to find the swing and balance of the steps. A Miraculous holder cannot become powerful overnight—it takes time to develop and mature, nurture your abilities and learn to wield them, grow stronger and master the power. You’ll grow into it on your own someday.”

“So if he needs to get stronger, then that means I need to get stronger, but if growing stronger takes all that time, then that means—”

“Exactly.” Master Fu rested his hand on the page, fixating her with a resolute expression. “This is not a simple task, Ladybug. You need to come into the Miraculous on your own, and it may takes weeks, months… Maybe longer.”

“But I don’t have that time!” She shifted anxiously in her seat with frustration, mindful to not disturb the slumbering cat in her lap. “Hawkmoth’s akumas get stronger every day, and I need Chat Noir to defeat them. We’re a team; I won’t let him fight this battle alone. But I can’t do everything _else_ alone. There’s got to be another way to fix him—something quicker!”

“If you fail, Chat Noir will become the strongest akuma you’ve ever faced,” Master Fu pointed out, eyes glinting furiously as he gestured towards the cat. Marinette glanced down at her partner, still injured and dirty, and the sight only filled her with more rage. “He needs you, Ladybug, now more than ever before. You are the only one who can help him."

“What if I’m not strong enough?” she said in a low murmur. “I can’t be Ladybug all the time; I’m Marinette for most of it, and Marinette’s just…” She trailed off, lacking the courage to finish the sentence, and instead, tightened her hold on her partner to avoid Master Fu’s heavy gaze.

“A diamond with a flaw is worth more than a pebble without imperfections.” He breathed out a light chuckle, eyes alit with a whimsical quality that she couldn’t put a name too. “I did not chose you to make the perfect Ladybug. I chose you because you already were.”

Marinette could on stare back at him.

…Just to think that, earlier that day, her biggest worry had been whether Adrien would return to school with her after the summer holidays. To be honest, she spent most of her days trying to live as normal of a life as possible while protecting Paris from a seeming unstoppable force that hid in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Ladybug was just her job—it wasn’t her true identity, and she never intended it to be. Her life, as Marinette Dupain-Cheng, was always her endgame because that was who she truly was. However, once upon, Chat Noir was changing things.

It was becoming harder to admit that Ladybug was just… a mask she took up to protect people. _Turns out that Tikki may have been right after all,_ she thought. _Maybe I’m Ladybug with or without the mask._ If Master Fu was telling the truth, it would explain how her life as a superheroine and her life as a civilian were intertwining too deep to untie, and if she wasn’t careful, she knew that the mask would be just like the clothing she designed—material comfort. It was only a short time before she could accept that, not only could she act as Ladybug out of costume, but that she could truly _be_ Ladybug as well.

Marinette swallowed thickly and closed her eyes, because if she tried hard enough, if she thought long enough, she might be able to come to terms with this. “How do I become stronger? Something tells me it’s not as simple as exercise and a healthy diet.”

“While I would recommend those, you’re right—it won’t be enough,” Master Fu said. “As your body grows stronger, your mind and soul must follow. Strength, by definition, requires the use of force. Testing your limits, overcoming obstacles, acceptance, and resistance: these are key ingredients in achieving your goal, Ladybug. You must challenge yourself, through your muscles and will, to make a change. Chat Noir must remain in your care doing that time as well—close contact will nurture your connection.”

Tikki nuzzled her cheek, a touch that seemed to calm the frantic nerves firing in her head. “I know you can do it, Marinette.”

She laid a comforting hand atop her kwami, stroking her forehead with her thumb. “And that’ll be enough?”

“We can only hope,” Master Fu told her.

Marinette clenched her hands into tight fists, wanting nothing more than to run away and scream her lungs out, or sob uncontrollably (she wasn’t quite sure yet). The whole situation was something she was drastically unprepared for, and now she faced months against unknown forces on her own for the very first time. Even when Chat Noir had been turned against her during previous battles, there was still a sense of familiarity that gave her strength in the absence of him at her side, but this time around, she had to be the rock he leaned on, else he’d fall off the edge and plummet to his death.

“Alright,” she said, kneading her forehead as pressure began to build behind her eyes at the daunting journey ahead of her that had finally fell upon her shoulders. “Guess I’ve got some growing up to do.”

Silence greeted her as she pushed herself to her feet, adjusting the cat and blanket in her arms into a more stable position (she wasn’t too inclined to hurt Chat Noir more than he already was). Reminding herself of her partner’s injuries, she started compiling a mental list of any local veterinarians nearby who might be able to treat him on a short notice.

A glance at Tikki had her backpedaling towards Master Fu. “You wouldn’t happen to be able to heal actual cats, would you?”

“Sadly, my expertise only pertains to bald cats of a rare breed from the Kowar kingdom.” Master Fu flashed her a small smile, eyes alit with unbridled amusement. “However, I might be able to offer Plagg some aid if you bring him by a couple times a week.”

“Plagg will need all of the help he can get,” Wayzz commented, settling down atop his holder’s head.

“I think I’m sensing a little animosity between you two,” she teased. “I thought you were the nice one, Wayzz.”

“Well, I-I…” Wayzz stared at her with a flabbergasted expression, mouth open wide with no hope of forming the proper response. “ _I’m_ not the one who sparked an epidemic of bubonic plague that killed over 75 million people.”

Marinette whirled around to stare at Master Fu in bewilderment, who merely pat his kwami patronizingly. “Must we share the story of Atlantis?”

Wayzz pressed his lips into a thin line, avoiding all of their gazes. “I don’t believe that will be necessary.”

A light chuckle bubbled up in her chest, but it couldn’t break through. “I guess I’ll figure something out. Should I just bring him by in a few days?”

Instead of responding, Master Fu placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving it a light squeeze to comfort her. “Things will work themselves out, Ladybug. I have seen many who feared the unknown, but all were strong enough to overcome it. Think of it as another limit to grow past.”

Nodding to herself, Marinette reached over to push open the door when another question slipped onto the tip of her tongue, one she’d been too wary of asking before, but one she desperately needed an answer to. “I know it’ll take me some time to get strong enough to help him, but you mentioned that Chat Noir has a time limit too.” She bit her lip and fixed her gaze on Master Fu, meeting his blank expression. “How long does he have?”

A prolonged period of silence hung over them, and it was as if the distance between them turned into a canyon. The only way to build a bridge across was if Master Fu could form some semblance of an answer that wouldn’t break her. It was still another moment, but then the Great Guard took a deep breath, shoulders hunching forward like the weight of the world had fallen on the, and he whispered, “Not long at all, I’m afraid. As you focus on growing your strength, he will use his to hold the akuma’s effects at bay. If you do not have the strength to hold him up when his depletes, he will fall.”

A lump formed in her throat. “ _Oh_.” It was a struggle to speak past it.

Silence lingered once more before she decided to take her leave, still numb with shock and flooded with the happenings, but as she made a move towards the door, Master Fu called out to her. “Remember, Ladybug. Do not be afraid of growing slowly, only of standing still.”

Marinette could only nod again, and then she was out the door. Face crumbling as soon as she hit the street, she picked up a quick pace and was racing home as the full enormity of the situation sunk in like a rock in the pit of her stomach. It was more like a boulder that refused to budge, and for the first time since she had taken up the mantle of Ladybug, she could not find the strength to move it.

A loud, drawn-out mewl broke through her thoughts, and she knew exactly who it belonged too. “I’m sorry, chaton,” she murmured softly, hugging the cat close to her chest as he struggled in her arms. “It’s alright, I promise, you’re gonna be…”

The rest of the words felt heavy on her lips, but her heart beat strong enough to push them out. “…You’re gonna be fine.”

It wasn’t the first time she had lied to him, and that, in all its glory, was the worst part about keeping secrets.

There was a reason Marinette Dupain-Cheng hated secrets.

*

**“—running into the storm, but you’re also running out of time, because the lightning strikes before you can catch it—”**

“ _Chat Noir!_ ”

A hand grasped her wrist before she could lose her grip completely, and she found herself pulled against a solid chest. “So I guess you need me more than you like to admit,” her partner teased, a playful smirk stretched across his face.

She hung off the side of the Eiffel Tower, wind blowing her hair back, and her heart caught in her throat at the long way down. Somehow, though, looking into her partner’s eyes, she knew she would be alright. He wouldn’t let her fall.

“You alright?” Chat Noir called out. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

“I-I’m not,” she snapped back hotly.

“Of course not.” He climbed down beside her, pulling them both onto a beam mid-way up the structure. The wind seemed to howl even harder. “You know,” he said with a soft smile. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“I…” She sighed. “I guess I’ve never been this high before.”

“You were up here against Stoneheart,” he gently reminded her, gesturing to the very top of the Eiffel Tower. “If you did it once, you can always do it again.”

“Yes, but that was different. I didn’t think about it.”

“Well then, don’t think about it.” He held out his hand to her, cocking his head to the side. “Just trust me. It’ll be alright, I promise. You’re gonna be fine.”

“…Alright.”

She grabbed his hand, and together, they raced to the top.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed that first chapter. I know it was clock full of introspection and backstory, but it's the first chapter and its job is to kind of set the stage for the whole rest of the story. My hope is that you take away some of the most important characteristics of the Marinette I'm trying to portray for the whirlwind of the journey were going on. Now we're going to get into some fun kitty shenanigans, the big identity reveal, and how being an almost-akuma is different from a regular one.
> 
> Buckle up, friends. Here we go.
> 
> *
> 
> If you want to fangirl about this show and these cinnamon rolls, feel free to contact me at @agrestenoir or @atimelordswife on Tumblr! I love talking to people.


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